


Everything Else Unravels

by TheBrideOfBronn (SilkCut)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Body Part Kinks, Bondage, Dom!Charles, M/M, Power Play, Sexual Possession, Telepathic Sex, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkCut/pseuds/TheBrideOfBronn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you chase the storm, it’s supposed to wear you down. Erik can’t help himself though and brings out the worst in Charles.</p><p><b>Additional Warnings</b>: <i>Charles' many experimentations with telepathic mind control and submission for the purposes of sexual possession, both in his past (which will be often glossed over) and in the present with Erik (which will be detailed)</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Send out the birds

**Author's Note:**

> I want to try something with these two and I hope it works out.

Erik didn’t know what to make of the way Charles looked at him regardless if they were alone or in the company of others. Back when he didn’t know the other man well, he considered each passing glance or word from him intrusive. Now that he considered Charles Xavier as someone he could trust, Erik felt as if even the most casual of looks from the man was rife with meaning. There have been a few moments he would catch Charles staring at him whenever Erik was preoccupied with something and the other man wouldn’t even care to disguise it.

Charles would either just nod his head at him as if in quiet greeting or openly smile at him like what he was doing was perfectly natural. In response, Erik would always allow himself a tight smile which should be enough to express his discomfort and suspicion but for a telepath and a genius, Charles seemed oblivious to it. He kept on looking at Erik every chance he got.

And Erik was starting to worry.

 

*

 

The only time he truly felt the heavy weight of Charles’ gaze was when the telepath slipped into his mind and accessed what he deemed was the ‘brightest corner’ of Erik’s memory system. He never noticed how blue Charles’ eyes were until then. It was exactly the shade of blue sentimental people could write songs about, and Erik stared back into them without shame and the need to hide.

_There’s so much more to you._

_So much more…_

_...than you know,_ Charles had whispered into his mind as he said the same words aloud between them, narrowing the gap Erik had always perceived will swallow him whole one day. In that moment he felt closer and at home in a plane of suspended time where it was just Charles speaking, healing him with words; _so much more,_ he echoed in his head, _there’s so much more to you than you know_.

“Not just pain and anger,” Charles must have known. He definitely knew. Those were the default settings Sebastian Shaw had integrated in Erik since he was a boy, and Charles invalidated them; he rendered them moot with just his words and those eyes. “There’s good too,” he smiled; all benevolence and second chances, and the warmth from Charles emanated across Erik, like a lingering touch of electric redemption. Charles was everywhere all at once—in his head, in his chest. Erik felt as if he was drowning again and Charles was breathing into him, filling him up with something more revitalizing than air itself.

“I felt it.”

 _There’s good too,_ he echoed again. _I felt it._

“When you can access all that,” The telepath looked deeper into his eyes and for the first time there was sadness in his own, “you’ll possess a power no one can match.” A pause—a hesitation. And then, "Not even me.”

Erik was already weightless and entranced as Charles leaned closer, his blue, blue eyes pure glistening water and Erik’s thirst became almost palpable in his throat just by looking at them. He could still feel Charles everywhere.

“Try again,” the man said and echoed in his head, _Try, try, try again._

Erik’s sight blurred with tears as his fingertips commanded the giant structure of steel and metal across the field to sing for him. His nerve endings were on fire with an insurgence of heat like never before, but they didn’t ache like they used to. This newfound power merely flitted across his skin, something so untouchable that he could never lock it in chains though he knew it had always belonged to him like an imprint. All he had to do was claim it. Claim it all, the good and the bad. Claim himself.

He felt Charles staring again and when he patted him on the back, Erik moved closer, laughing, holding Charles’ gaze in fear that it will stray. But Charles never looked away and his smile never wavered so Erik saw it as an encouragement and dragged his weight to press himself against the telepath. His arms then snaked around Charles awkwardly in an attempt so feeble that it undermined the strength of his intention. But Charles seemed to understand and his hands held Erik by the elbows and for a second or two Erik was afraid he was going to be pushed away.

“My friend...” Charles muttered close to his ear instead since his chin rested on Erik’s shoulder the minute their bodies made contact with each other. “You’re okay. Actually, you’re more than okay. You were splendid. I knew you could do it…”

For a telepath, Charles has certainly mistaken this sudden display of affection on Erik’s part for a mere expression of fatigue and Erik was determined to remedy that. He fully enveloped Charles in his arms now, almost lifting his feet from the ground. He took some pleasure when he heard Charles let out a small squeal, blurting out an indignant, “Erik!” and a question Charles didn’t even get a chance to ask because Erik pulled away just enough to look into Charles’ eyes again which was all the answer the telepath needed in order to grasp the situation fully.

He couldn’t say a damn thing. His lips opened and closed in an attempt for communication and Erik almost grinned at how pitiful the other man looked.

“You’re okay,” Erik decided to answer him, teasing him with his own words. “You’re more than okay, actually. You were splendid.”

And Charles let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m afraid we’re far too close for comfort, Erik.” To demonstrate just that, he wiggled for some room.

But Erik smirked. “I’m comfortable enough, thanks.”

“Erik…” Charles looked defeated now but there was another smile appearing on his lips. Erik felt Charles’ hands sliding to his back as the telepath pulled himself slightly away at last and yet he still allowed Erik to hold him some more. The smile has increased now as he remarked, “You’re uncharacteristically touchy today, my friend.”

“Yes,” Erik could only say. He pulled away his other arm from Charles’ back just so he could run his fingers through the other man’s hair. He did this absentmindedly at first until he realized that he wanted to touch Charles like this since they became friends and have spent a lot of time together in a way no one in his life since his parents has ever had. So, with all tentativeness, Erik brushed Charles’ hair away from his forehead and found that he enjoyed the way the telepath’s eyes widened at that gesture. It delighted him when his breath hitched.

“Erik,” Charles began but didn’t get to follow it with a sentence.

He wasn’t sure what occurred to him exactly but standing close to Charles likes this, looking into his eyes and remembering that the man had saved his life in a lot of ways than just rescuing him from drowning at sea the first time they met, Erik suddenly felt he was invincible. He was able to move the entire satellite dish earlier after all, and he was finally able to remember his mother in a beautiful way he had been so unable to do for a long time since she died. Of course he was feeling bold!

Not thinking much of anything else at this point but Charles, Erik leaned close enough to touch their noses together but then Charles jerked back in instinct.

The telepath may not be responding to Erik’s blatant advances, but he still kept his arms around Erik. He wasn’t looking away either. Charles looks almost contemplative, as if he was trying to read his mind but Erik knew he wouldn’t because he promised not to once. Besides, his actions are more than enough to spell out clearly what he wanted from Charles at this moment.

“This is…surprising,” Charles began.

“Is it?” Erik couldn’t stop smiling now. “To me, it seemed almost inevitable.”

Charles furrowed his eyebrows at that but he asked softly, “Is that so?”

He lowered his hands from Erik’s back but didn’t withdraw just yet, though Erik could tell he might. The pressure of his fingertips against his back has lightened from their touch. Charles was ready to let him go anytime now, and then dismiss this revelation with a casual witty remark, never to speak of again. Erik wasn’t going to let that happen. They both have come so far since that night in the ocean when Charles found him. Things between them have evolved faster than either of them could have anticipated, including Erik’s feelings. He found clarity at this moment because he also realized that he can only see himself perfectly through Charles’ eyes.

Boldly, he spoke up. “Charles, I want to kiss you.”

The telepath’s face transformed instantly the moment Erik uttered that single phrase. Charles’ eyes widened impossibly now and he jerked his head back. There was an unmistakable flush in his cheeks though, and his lips slightly parted. Erik’s gaze traveled to them immediately and Charles pursed them together, almost by instinct.

But then he managed to reply. “I did not expect to have this kind of conversation with you. That said, I understand why you feel inclined to…kiss me…” he paused again so he could exhale. And then he added, “You and I have just shared what we can safely call an…intimate moment.”

“Or two,” Erik added. “You were in my head too when I almost killed myself.”

“Yes,” Charles frowned now. “And that’s why I understand, Erik.” He finally disengaged himself from Erik’s embrace but he did so gently and with enough consideration for how Erik would react. “You haven’t been this close with anyone, not after what Shaw did to you. I suppose I really am the first friend you’ve ever made, as well as establish a real connection with…” he trailed off and the expression in his face seemed almost pained now. “Whatever it is you feel about me is perfectly natural, given your circumstances. For weeks you and I bonded and that bond has gotten stronger. And we both learned to care for one another so deeply, but I’m afraid that I could not extend our relations to something more than platonic.”

“Charles,” Erik replied, measuring each word. “I’m not asking to be your boyfriend. I’m not asking to take you out on dates. I’m just asking for a kiss.”

“That’s it?” Charles sounded suspicious.

“I obviously haven’t thought this through, you know.”

“Obviously,” Charles smirked now.

“That said,” Erik added, “I can assure you that this is just me speaking in the heat of the moment and I probably won’t ask for any follow-up after the kiss.”

“Assuming, of course, I agree to your request.”

“Which you will.”

“Oh?” Charles crossed his arms before him. “Confident now, are we?”

“Come on,” Erik grinned. “You can’t deny you’re not curious.”

Now Charles grinned back. “I have been curious before. With a few men.” He looked away as he cleared his throat. There was a slight flush in his cheeks.

Erik felt almost embarrassed for him but he still asked anyway. “And I take it you didn’t pursue?”

“Erik…” Charles chuckled and his voice was shaky with his next response. “I don’t imagine it would be an enjoyable experience for you...to kiss me.”

“Just let me kiss you, for god’s sakes,” Erik almost rolled his eyes and growled in frustration. “Let’s get it over with. Plain and simple.”

“That’s quite disrespectful,” Charles shot back, feigning offense. There was still some amusement in his eyes. “I presume I’d be wooed first. Trying to get me to acquiesce should be done more gracefully than that, darling.”

Erik smiled at the term of endearment and Charles saw that remark emboldened him but said nothing. He scrutinized Erik for a minute before speaking up again, “I’d like to believe that I have never been that strict and limiting with my preferences though my history will attest that I’ve only been with women exclusively.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at Erik before he added, “But you are always full of surprises, my dear Erik. You’re a challenge. And challenges to me have always held a certain…stimulating appeal.”

“So I stimulate you?” Erik cocked his head to the side. “No surprise there. You’re clearly smitten with me than you let on, staring at me when you think I won’t notice; asking me to keep you company every night to play chess…”

“Don’t even,” Charles chuckled. “You color my innocent gestures with underlying meanings that don’t exist to begin with—”

“I think you’d taste sweet,” Erik interrupted, not even caring to filter himself anymore. “Your lips have the shade of cherries after all. But you won’t be sweet like sugar; maybe you’ll be a little tangy and yet very delicate too, like a well-preserved wine. I think that’s how you’d taste in the tongue,” he grinned wider now. “And I bet all the girls have thought the same before when they took one look at your lips like I’m doing now. Did you ever listen to their thoughts when they do put their mouths upon yours, Charles? Did you like what you heard? How much they’ve enjoyed it?”

“I—” Charles definitely didn’t know how to respond to that. Erik took advantage of the situation before the telepath could compose a witty retort.

“One kiss,” he took a step closer. “I promise I wouldn’t ask for anything more.”

Now Charles definitely looks like he was seriously considering it. He looked at Erik now with a keener interest as if he too has finally begun to comprehend the extent of the undeniable chemical reaction that has been flowing between them.

It almost seemed like forever before Charles responded. “Just one kiss then?”

Erik only nodded, afraid that another word from him would break this spell.

Charles uncrossed his arms and made a gesture as if he was indicating Erik to come closer for another embrace. Erik tried not to seem too eager as he pulled Charles against his body again and leaned down like a man with a renewed sense of purpose. He didn’t even care to see if Charles closed his eyes as Erik readily shut his and pressed his lips against the telepath’s. His original plan was to not yet deepen the contact but the moment he felt the other man’s breath mingling with his own, Erik had gone temporarily insane and parted his lips some more, seeking to slake the thirst by locking his mouth tightly around Charles’ once the other man allowed him passage. Their tongues were caught in a confused debate of dominance at first but then Erik grabbed Charles by the back of his head to position their mouths in an angle that gives him the better access so Charles was forced to bend to his iron will in no time. Charles moaned into the kiss and Erik could tell it was in spite of himself.

As for his part, Erik pulled slightly away so he could suck on the other man’s lower lip next and even allowed himself to nibble on that sensitive area while he was at it. And then he dove back in with his tongue licking the roof of Charles’ mouth, then painting across his teeth. He felt the telepath suddenly grab fistfuls of his sweater because of that. Charles’ entire weight was pressed against him by now, almost achingly, and he grinded his pelvis against Erik’s in a way that he didn’t seem to be entirely aware of. The deeper Erik ravaged his mouth, the tighter Charles held onto him. Erik never expected that he could explore another man’s mouth like this but then he realized that this has to be the most rewarding and enjoyable kiss he had ever experienced, certainly when he had so few encounters of the amorous kind to compare this with. He almost wished it would never end.

Charles has a different opinion on the matter, apparently, because he abruptly ripped himself away from Erik. He took a few steps back as he gasped for air.

“God…” he only said, staring at Erik with wide eyes.

“Not bad, right?” Erik remarked and stopped himself from looking too smug.

“Well,” Charles tried to say something again as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand as if he was trying to hide it from Erik’s sight.

“I was right,” Erik said it as if he was making a grand proclamation.

Charles didn’t even care to ask. He turned his body away from Erik, pretending he was looking at the satellite dish though his eyes were almost blank, clearly distracted from the memory of their earlier intimate contact.

After another minute, Charles suggested. “We should head back inside.”

“And do what?” Erik didn’t mean anything by that but Charles’ sharp gaze at him begged to differ. He ended up snorting a laugh. “You’re acting like that wasn’t enjoyable for either of us, Charles.”

“It was new,” the other man simply said as he shoved his hands on his pockets and continued to sulk like a scolded child.

Erik was starting to worry again. Softly, he inquired. “Do I repulse you now?”

“No,” Charles shook his head, eyes closed. When he opened them again, he added. “I just don’t know how to proceed from here, that’s all.” He then laughed. “And I thought I had enough share of awkward post-sex encounters before.”

Seeing the other man acting so strangely (without his usual suave demeanor), Erik just couldn’t help but tease him. “It was just a kiss, Charles. Trust me, if we had sex, you wouldn’t be able to go back from anything.”

“Oh?” There was a hint of a challenge in Charles’ tone. But Erik could have been mistaken. Maybe a little hopeful.

“Recovery is never an option,” Erik just grinned at him.

Charles laughed aloud and shook his head as he said. “I’ll just have to take your word for it then, my friend. I have no doubt you don’t exaggerate your prowess. You’ve always been a modest and straightforward man so I—”

“—should confirm my boasts yourself, Charles.”

“What was that?”

Erik knows Charles definitely heard that comment but he didn’t care to repeat himself. He just smiled knowingly, taking another step closer to the other man.

“You are so unpredictable,” Charles just smiled but was also taking a step back from Erik. He’s becoming harder to read by the moment. “And that’s coming from someone who can fairly anticipate what other people are up to.”

Erik wondered if he should press on. Charles’ body language suggests that he is very uncomfortable with their conversation, and that he is merely trying to be polite by making a light of the subject. But it was such a direct contradiction to the way he reacted while Erik held him tight and kissed him senseless earlier.

“You were wrong,” Erik tried again. “I really enjoyed kissing you. You said it would have been horrible for me.”

“I never said ‘horrible’,” Charles countered.

“Did you think it was horrible?”

“No,” Charles’ expression was inscrutable.

Erik kept his mouth shut, daring Charles to say something more.

Seconds passed.

And then Charles asked. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Erik nodded.

“And,” Charles was almost frowning, weighing his next question carefully. “It’s not going to be just one kiss now, is it?”

Erik didn’t give him any kind of confirmation but his eyes may have betrayed him no less because Charles shook his head again and looked down at his feet.

He looked up again, almost abruptly and said. “Look, I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I admit that I enjoyed it myself. Maybe a little too much,” he chuckled and now he sounded nervous. “But I’m sorry, Erik, I must refuse. I’m afraid that if we did it again, I won’t be able to…” he trailed off, as if he was suddenly aware that this confession could prove deadly. “…to stop, you know.” Another chuckle.

“So?” Erik offered.

“So!” Charles retorted as if it was obvious.

“The hell with it,” Erik took a few more steps closer and knew Charles would try to get away but he quickly cupped the telepath’s cheeks and captured his mouth for another kiss. Charles squirmed away, holding up his hands to shove Erik off but his fingers only dug into the other man’s shoulder blades in a weak demonstration of refusal. A few seconds passed and he was pulling Erik to him instead, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other tightened around Erik’s right elbow.

“…dammit, Erik!” Charles managed to withdraw long enough to scold the other man but he parted his lips again and pressed them against Erik’s with a force that could almost bruise and Erik was delighted about that. He slipped his tongue inside Charles’ mouth and kept them clamped together for as long as he could.

Somehow Charles was taking a few steps back during the kiss but Erik simply followed, winding his arms around the telepath’s back to keep him locked in. Charles was able to successfully push his face away from Erik’s reach though. “Stop,” he was saying. “Erik, I’m telling you ‘no.’ Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Erik answered but he still held Charles. This was getting frustrating. “But you are giving mixed signals with your body. I don’t know which one to obey.”

To prove his point, he made a thrusting motion with his hips and felt Charles’ erection harden more beneath them. Eyes widening impossibly, Charles tried to say something in protest but Erik lowered his hands to his waist and grinded again. The panic and arousal mingled in Charles’ expression this time. He was livid. Erik could tell this was a violation and yet he also knew Charles was torn whether or not he should welcome it. Something about this was both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Erik,” Charles began, his voice stern. “I said ‘no.’”

“Why?” Erik gasped out. “We both want the same thing.”

“No, my friend.” Charles’ stare could silence a storm. “We do not.”

Erik still gripped him by the waist. The pressure was so possessive that his fingers would have left impressions on Charles’ flesh even with the fabric separating them. He refused to let go. He is not going to yield.

Charles was fuming. He no longer had his hands around Erik but he didn’t move away as if he wanted Erik to surrender first and let him go.

“Make me,” Erik whispered dangerously as he leaned in, his lips barely touching the telepath’s as his next words ebbed between them. “I know you’re not unkind, Charles. But you can be cruel if you want to be.”

Now Charles’ eyes darkened. “Don’t. Even.”

Two words never sounded so ominous.

“My threshold can handle it.” Erik was smirking. “I’ve weathered a lot of bad things before you found me that night. And you know it.”

Charles’ eyes were still hard. The blue in them looked like it was drained from any sort of light. He answered in all quietness. “You can’t handle my worst.”

“Yes,” Erik brushed his fingers on Charles’ cheek, “Show me. Pretend you have me at gunpoint again. Pull the trigger this time.”

Charles was unmoved.

Erik tried again. “There is so much more to you than you let on.”

A crackle of electricity shot itself behind Erik’s eyes out of nowhere, and he coiled by reflex, loosening his grip on Charles. The telepath took advantage of this and pushed Erik to the ledge behind them and for a brief moment it was as if Charles was going to let him fall down to his death. But he merely pressed his weight against Erik as he entrapped him, placing his arms on either side of him while hands gripped the ledge. Charles’ gaze never wavered away from Erik’s face and his breath was hot against his lips but he did not kiss him.

The sound of their hearts beating against each other drowned everything else around them but Erik tried to listen to what Charles was whispering to him. “The day when you overpower me is not today, my friend. You are no match for me. I’m not made of metal or held together by anything that you can easily slice. You don’t have me figured out. Don’t ask it of me to hurt you because I do have that capacity. I can give you scars that could last a lifetime, Erik.”

Tentatively, Charles kissed him and then pulled away just as instantly. “If you want it that way, then give me permission. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Erik blinked several times as he focused on Charles before him, absorbing the rush of intensity emanating from the telepath as best as he could. He wondered if he should fear for his life. He has never seen Charles this angry but there was also a quiet calm that engulfed this rage. Is this what he meant by finding the point between the two forces? Erik would like to know. He wanted to know Charles like this—through their melded minds with flesh-on-flesh contact. The telepath knew everything about him from the very first moment he reached out, so why shouldn’t Erik take the time to learn about Charles too?

In response, Erik just thrusts his hips towards the angle he knew would make Charles ache for him again. The telepath’s eyes softened just a little but there wasn’t enough warmth to them, at least not just yet. He now lets Erik go. He assumed a relaxed position as if nothing happened but he was now gazing at Erik with a satisfied smirk on his face. It didn’t look right on Charles, that dirty look, but the sight of it simultaneously terrified and excited Erik.

“I understand,” Charles simply said. After a short pause, he added. “Let’s head back inside. We’ll pick this up some time later tonight.”

Erik finally found his voice. “So no chess then?”

“Oh, there’s chess,” Charles was already walking back towards the mansion. “But just a different kind.”


	2. The Days Are Racing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a backstory to whet the appetite and establish my version of Charles for this story. It's probably going to take me a while to update since the next chapter is going to be where the action finally commences and hopefully accelerates steadily from that point on. I hope you've all found the most comfortable seats in the house. It's going to get bumpy.

Charles was nine years old. The family butler Jacob Copperton, who had served the Xaviers for four generations, retired without even saying goodbye to Brian and Sharon Xavier. He never told them what their son had been doing every time they went to their extended business trips around the world and perhaps it’s not only because he was scared of the boy’s abilities but also because he still loved him.

His fear of Charles simply outweighed it.

Charles was quite fond of the old man himself. After all, he was the only servant in the mansion he did not project any kind of malice into. Three of them he had bruised with mental images of the horrifying nature on a weekly basis. He had tormented a particular cook with heinous suggestions and got her to inflict shallow cuts on her thighs with a chopping knife. In his defense, they were utterly bad people. They stole his mother’s jewelry, sold some of their expensive bottles of wine on the side, and fed him weeks-old meat that he unfortunately detected too late. He fell ill soon after and plotted his revenge once he recovered.

Other than that, Charles was looking for any way to lash out whenever his parents would leave him alone in the care of these dubious characters, hoping that they would come as soon as they became privy to his “tantrums” (which was exactly how the butler phrased them in his letters; he never expounded on the scenarios). When Charles found out that he had been withholding the information, he was glad to be rid of the old man before he might do something to him he knew he will regret.

Jacob Copperton was the only friend he had before Raven came along. But it turns out that Jacob’s love and sense of duty were not enough to make him stay.

Charles was twelve years old. The new maid Constance was twenty-two and she kept her red hair tied in a simple bun and beneath a bonnet as if she was trying not to draw attention to it. But Charles noticed.

Charles noticed Constance often—the curve of her hips, the ampleness of her breasts. He often imagined nestling his head on them every time she got close enough. Constance regarded him with enough warmth for a servant and he developed a fondness for her quickly, always asking for her to bring him food to his room on days he feels particularly attached to his bed. He even taught her the Dewey Decimal System so she can spend hours inside the family library, at least twice a week, to arrange the books in the shelves. Charles stayed in the library almost every day himself, and took pleasure watching Constance in secret whenever she tiptoed for books that are far from her reach. The way the rest of her body stretched and presented itself to Charles from where he sat was probably his most favorite thing.

Her movements have always been so cat-like (she was so, _so_ lithe and graceful) that Charles wondered a few times about what it would take for her to purr.

It was on a particularly cold August evening when Charles decided to find out.

In his young mind back then, Charles was honestly just looking for a mother figure. Sharon Xavier did everything she could to get away from such a role after all. So Charles longed for Constance’s company because she was beautiful and earnest (and the only servant in the household still unaware of his “skill”; the others have long avoided prolonged contact with him and with a mansion as huge as theirs, it wasn’t very difficult). But reflecting back on it, Charles realized that what he felt for Constance might also be considered his very first experience with lust.

Charles was seventeen when Constance married his Literature professor. They met during a social function, in one of Sharon Xavier’s extravagant parties. Charles was hardly surprised of that development, but Raven had a crush on that professor for so long which was why she cried about his engagement one evening. She may be out of everyone’s earshot in the mansion during that moment, but her tears soaked into Charles’ consciousness as he lay on his own bed, seeing her clearly through the cement that separated their rooms because the overwhelming surge of her heartbreak was difficult to ignore. It swelled on his chest. It shattered him.

And yet he drank the second-hand sadness like it could be his own.

The next night he sought for Constance because he missed her so dearly, and found her in one of the vegetable yards outside the mansion. He expanded his reach for her like she was a book in the higher shelf he would risk toppling over just to read again. She wasn’t alone. The professor was with her and their bodies were wrapped around each other, caught in a dance of euphoria; its rhythm unfamiliar at first until Charles began to move to it himself. Buried underneath the thick blankets, he angrily pulled down his flannel bottoms and got acquainted to the needs of his own flesh for the very first time. He never touched himself like that before, merely content to peek through the snippets of random people’s fantasies when bored. He often laughed at them for giving in to their weaker, earthly impulses. But he envied them too since he could only know desire through telepathic contact like all the second-hand, recyclable emotions he can sift through anytime he wants. He was just a homeless man feasting on the spoils and leftovers of others, but this time he wanted a bigger portion.

Constance could have been his. She never feared him when he first exposed his powers to her that cold August night when he was a young boy who understood little about the world but also knew too much about it than he could handle.

“Show me more, Francis,” she gleefully encouraged. “Let’s read them together,” and then she took his hand, allowing his fingers to press on her temple. A deluge of heat and unfiltered knowledge passed through both their minds then. Charles gazed into her green eyes the entire time and felt like this was somewhere he belonged. Emboldened by her acceptance, he probed deeper than he should have, and knew he must have wounded her but she just laughed dismissively and held him close instead. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured into his hair.

Sharon Xavier never held him like this, not since when he was four.

“Sweet, sweet boy…” Constance called him as he happily dissolved into her embrace. “My special, sweet boy…”

Charles had always known he was special. But she called him _hers._

 **Hers**!

But now Constance belonged to another. Charles at least had Raven but his sister never welcomed him into her mind. When she made him promise never to touch her consciousness, she also severed some part of their cord as friends by refusing him the intimacy he knew best. He didn’t want to lose her like Jacob, so he paid the price of loneliness which he instead eagerly filled with studies concerning other kinds of mutations aside from telepathy and shape-shifting. He found solace in the belief that there are others like him and Raven out there.

He needed it to be true.

Charles had never been able to have an absolutely quiet time in his life since he was two years old when he started hearing other people’s thoughts.

Telepathy had kept him company and yet he had always felt so utterly alone.

 

*

Over the course of a few years in the university, Charles had gone through seven women. He toyed with them at least twice during sex, using some form of mild hypnotic suggestion, if not a detailed projection of erotic quality, as he infuses his mind with their own. He never did anything to injure them—at least not permanently or in any way they will ever remember. The human mind is far more resilient than anyone could hope for and Charles was a self-taught expert in reading its unexplored contents. He focused mostly on the pain and pleasure centers of the brain and it’s quaint how often these supposedly opposite sensations can never exist without the other. Women by nature are also very volatile and complex and Charles has never gotten tired unravelling puzzle after puzzle after puzzle. He often fancied himself the White Rabbit to their Alice as they all eagerly chased after him down the rabbit-hole.

He was aware all the time now. Aware of being aware that he was aware of himself, and lesser men would have been driven insane. Charles was also aware that Raven is attractive even if she believes otherwise just because her skin is blue and scaly. Charles often wondered what hidden treasures she hoards to herself in that mind of hers but he knew whatever chance he had of acquiring her has long past its expiration date. Though they’re not blood-related, she’s still his sibling. Sure, Raven has shown some interest but Charles deftly recognized that her longing for him was a general desire for a man to appreciate her uniqueness. Raven didn’t exactly want Charles himself and this simple fact dissuaded him from wanting her back. He had hoped that when they do meet other mutants, Raven would find a qualified mate in one of them who would give her what she deserves. Charles needed it to be true, for both their sakes. He couldn’t love Raven in the way she wanted the most after all.

Charles wondered if he ever loved anyone in a way they deserve or require. He’d always feel out of his depth whenever it came to the matters of the heart, mind reader that he is. There are just certain things about the human psyche one can never just decipher and though telepathy may give him a better advantage than most, the variety of self-expressions people use when it came to love will always leave room for everyone to mistake the intentions of others, or mask their own greater needs.

People are frustrating; their emotions are unending tendrils Charles may have the ability to smooth down to a readable state, but he could still get them all tangled up. Or worse; he could find himself embedded in their cobwebs like a trap.

Erik Lehnsherr was such a man who, until earlier that day, was simply yet another troubled soul on the run, one whose mutation simply added more burden to an already marginalized life, and who Charles happened to luckily snag as a comrade at arms. That was until both men realized there was so much more between them than what Charles initially comprehended. The very first time their minds touched, a lingering burn had stayed with Charles long after the contact ended. Some are able to leave deeper impressions than even a telepath of his caliber could never anticipate. It occurred to him now that Erik was that kind of infection. He couldn’t have prevented him unless he willed it so. But he opted not to because Charles, of course, liked Erik.

He never had any close male friends aside from ones he associated with during drunken bar cruises or within the confines of his scientific studies in the university. None of these men ever mattered to Charles except on a superficial level just as none of the women after Constance ever held a candle that could rival the warmth of her memory. Erik was the first man he ever considered an equal, and he wasn’t the easiest of men to get along with in the first place so it was just perfect. At times, he would even look at Erik like he’s seeing a reflection of himself in a funhouse mirror where the man who stared back at him has lived his days in darker hues. Charles would like to think that in spite of his own personal crimes, he still had enough light to give to a friend who needs it.

Erik was his friend because he _felt_ familiar. His mind was a vessel lost at sea while Charles’ was the only anchor that could hold it down.

All the second-hand and the recyclable, the spoils and leftovers—they were probably just a way to prepare Charles to love someone else in a way that person deserves and requires. He just didn’t know it until Erik wrapped his arms around him that day and kissed him, as if the past decade and a half of his life was just a stupor of borrowed and counterfeit emotions and relationships and he’s finally waking up.

The trouble is Charles _doesn’t want to love_ Erik. Loving him would diminish what they have between them which can never be just simplified with such a frothy, overrated and often misunderstood, let alone the most common, of all human sentiments. Charles does not love Erik. Somehow the four-letter word is not enough to describe the deluge that threatens to burst through his shields every time he looked at his friend, and now it has spilled all over the edges since the very moment Erik took him out of the highest of shelves and began flipping through his pages. 

He’s about to discover that Charles Xavier is a book prohibited for public consumption, one which the most conservative folk would go to lengths to have incinerated. He was not meant to be casually read.


End file.
